


What's happening?

by Zorro_sci



Series: The who, what, when, where, why and how of the science family [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Science Family, Sick!Bruce, Tony is a good dad, but sometimes he feels like he is out of his depth, worried!Tony, worried!science family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2190513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zorro_sci/pseuds/Zorro_sci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bruce suddenly gets sick, everyone is worried.  And Tony realizes just how much he relies on his husband to co-parent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Anomaly at Bedtime

"Daddy needs to say good-night, too," Jemma said, as she was tucked into her bed. "Where's Daddy?"

Tony sighed, and whispered, "Daddy's sick."

"Daddy doesn't get sick," she argued, crossing her arms across her small chest.

He swallowed with difficulty, her words reminding him of his own fears. Bruce didn't get sick, well, at least he wasn't supposed to be able to get sick; so when he awoke to the sound of Bruce retching in the en suite bathroom at two in the morning, he had been very concerned. He'd hurried to Bruce's side, only to be shooed away by his glassy-eyed, flush-faced husband. 

As soon as he was able to stand, Bruce had made his way down to the Hulk-proof room and locked himself inside. He refused to leave or let anyone in, not because he feared the Hulk making an appearance, but because he worried that whatever he had was contagious. If it could make him sick even with his supposed invulnerability to all human diseases, he wasn't going to chance exposing his family to it.

Tony hadn't seen him or heard from him, (other than his explanation as to why he had quarantined himself delivered via JARVIS), for eighteen hours, and he was incredibly worried. He'd tried to put his worry aside though, and focus on his children. He'd taken care of all their meals, dropped off and picked up Peter and Jane from school, played with Jemma and Fitz, taken the younger two for a walk in the park while the older ones were at school, and gone through backpacks after school. 

Now it was bedtime for the youngest two members of the Banner-Stark family, and Bruce's absence hadn't gone unnoticed, (he was slightly surprised that they hadn't noticed earlier, though he supposed there were days one of them would get an early start and not resurface until bedtime. Bedtime was a sacred ritual though, and both Bruce and Tony made a point of being there to tuck their kids into bed).

"We haven't seen Daddy all day. How sick is he?" Fitz asked nervously from his bed across the room.

Tony considered for a moment, before he decided to tell the truth and answered, "I don't know."

"Where is he?" Jemma asked insistently. "He's not in your bed. We stay in bed when we're sick. Why isn't he in bed if he's sick?"

"He's in bed downstairs. He doesn't want to get any of us sick," Tony replied.

The twins exchanged a frightened glance.

"Is Daddy going to die?" Fitz asked, his voice small and quavering.

"What?" Tony asked in surprise.

"In one of Jemma's books it said that when people got sick really bad, with something that could kill them, they went someplace away from other people to keep other people from getting sick. Someplace that was _quartertined_ ," he explained, his fear evident in his posture and tone.

"'Quarantined,'" Tony corrected. "And no, your Daddy is not going to die. He just doesn't want to risk us getting sick until he knows what made him sick."

"Because he can't get sick. He told me he can't get any disease people know about. That means he has to have something they don't know about," Jemma concluded. "You can't promise us he won't die! You can't know! You don't even know why he's sick!"

Jemma broke down into tears, and Fitz's eyes went wide and started to well up. They both started sobbing, and even though Tony tried to comfort them, they just cried harder. 

It was moments like this that he wished his children weren't geniuses. Normal three-year-olds would never have read about quarantines or the history of diseases. They never would have asked about Hulk's effect on their father's ability to get sick, or drawn the conclusions Jemma had about the implications that had on the current situation. 

It was times like this, that they simply knew too much, and yet not enough at the same time. Because for all their knowledge, they were still young children who just wanted their Daddy to tuck them into their beds and tell them everything was alright. They lacked the life experience to put the situation into perspective, so they automatically assumed the worst. Then again, if Tony were honest, even with his forty-odd years of experience he was just as afraid and for very similar reasons.

"It'll be okay. Your Daddy is a genius, and he's one of the best doctors I know. He'll figure this out. And he'll get better," Tony reassured.

"But what if he doesn't?" Fitz asked tremulously.

"He will," Tony said firmly. "He's strong. He'll be okay."

He met both of their eyes, and though they still looked dubious, they nodded. They would take Tony at his word, because they wanted it to be true as much as he did. Their tears stopped, and they seemed to settle down.

He kissed both of them on the forehead and stood to leave the room.

"Good night," he called softly back into the room from the doorway.

"Good night, Papa," they chorused back.


	2. Conversations before bed

Jane and Peter were huddled together whispering when Tony returned to the living room. His daughter's eyes were growing wider and more concerned as her younger brother continued to murmur whatever it was he was telling her.

"Daddy's sick?" she asked, as soon as she noticed her Papa's presence in the room.

"Yes," he answered simply, still too exhausted from what had just happened with the twins to want to elaborate.

"Really sick. He's downstairs to try to make sure we don't get sick," Peter added.

Well, that answered that question. Peter had been eavesdropping, and he had been telling his sister what he overheard when Tony came into the room.

"So we can't see him?" Jane asked.

"No. Not until we know whatever is making him sick isn't contagious," Tony said neutrally.

"Can we send him a message through JARVIS?" she asked hopefully.

"I don't see why not," her father answered.

"JARVIS?" she prompted, looking toward the nearest camera.

"Yes, Miss Jane?" the AI responded.

"Can you tell Daddy that I hope he gets well soon, and that I miss him?" she inquired.

"Tell him I miss him, too," Peter chimed in. "And that I want him to get better as soon as possible."

"Of course," JARVIS said; he went silent for a few minutes and then added, "your Daddy says thank you for the get well wishes and that he misses you too. He also says it's time for bed, and he wishes you both a good night."

"You heard him. Time for bed," Tony echoed, heading down the hall and waiting for them to follow.

They groaned but complied, and fifteen minutes later Tony found himself alone in the living room with all of the children safely in bed.

"JARVIS, open up a line of communication with the Hulk room," he instructed.

"Communication is now open, sir," the smooth mechanical voice answered.

"Bruce?" 

"Tony? Is everything okay?"

Bruce's voice sounded weak and strained, but Tony was still relieved to hear it. With how worried he had been, he felt like it had been an eternity since he had spoken with his husband.

"The kids are all in bed, and everything is fine. I'm really worried about you, though. How are you? Are you feeling any better?"

"I'm okay. I still don't feel great, but I'm alright."

"J?"

"Dr. Banner currently has a temperature of one hundred seven degrees. He has been vomiting regularly since two in the morning, and has not been able to eat anything, or even drink water, without being sick."

"Want to try again, Bruce?"

"You don't need to worry, Tony."

"Really? Because my sick husband locked himself in a room and won't let me in. And a fever of one hundred seven and the inability to keep down water seem like something to worry about. . . I'm coming down there."

"Tony, no! Besides, you can't. The whole floor is closed because I locked down the lab."

"I'll use my override codes."

"I used my safety protocol. You can't override that."

"But that was designed to prevent me for being exposed to radiation when you were running dangerous tests, not to let you shut the world out when you need help!"

"I took blood samples to try to figure out what's happening, so there is a radiation risk. Besides, anything that can make _me_ this sick, when my blood usually kills even the worst viruses, is definitely dangerous enough to invoke safety protocols."

"I don't like this. You shouldn't be alone."

"I need to be alone for now. We can't risk anyone else getting sick. There's no telling how much worse this would be if I didn't have irradiated blood."

"Or maybe this is worse _because_ of the radiation, and it wouldn't be so bad for anyone else. Or maybe it's not even contagious."

"That's possible, but I'm not willing to take that risk. Not until I know more."

"Bruce . . . ."

"No arguments, Tony."

"The kids are scared, Bruce. Jemma and Fitz think you're going to die because you quarantined yourself."

"'Quarantined,' huh? So Jemma _has_ been reading the books she asked for about the history of medicine."

"It's not funny! They cried inconsolably for almost fifteen minutes! They were terrified. . .and I'm scared too, Bruce. . .this shouldn't be happening. You shouldn't be sick. But since you are, I think we should _both_ be working to find out what's happening. Two heads are better than one. We could figure it out sooner together."

"Not if I spent the whole time worrying about you getting sick. Besides, you're a great engineer, and your work in robotics and technology is lightyears ahead of everyone else, but biology, especially microbiology, isn't your area of expertise."

"You're a nuclear physicist! Besides, I'm a genius, I'll figure it out!" 

"I'm also a medical doctor who studied biochemistry and genetics. And even though I don't doubt you could figure it out, it's better and safer if you leave it to me."

"Couldn't I just wear a biohazard suit?"

"Tony . . . "

 

"Updates every two hours and the ability to override if you lose consciousness."

"What?"

"I'll let it go, and leave it to you, if I get updates from you or JARVIS every two hours on your condition . . .honest updates. . . .and if you create a protocol that allows me to override your lockdown if you pass out."

"Tony . . ."

"Bruce, you're really sick, and I went eighteen hours without hearing a word from you. Something could have happened to you, and I wouldn't have known. I was worried something _had_ happened. If I wouldn't have been watching our kids all day, I would have broken down the door hours ago. 

I need to know there's some sort of safety protocol that protects _you_ , not just the people around you. So updates every two hours and the ability to be informed of the situation and enter the lab if you lose consciousness, or I swear I'll find a way to break in right now."

"Okay. JARVIS, make a modification to the safety protocol so that Tony is notified if I suddenly lose consciousness, and make sure he is able to enter the lab if he's wearing appropriate protective gear."

"The modification has been made, Dr. Banner."

"Thank you, Bruce . . . I love you."

"I love you, too. . . .now I'm going to try and get some sleep. You should probably do the same. Good night."

"Night."

The room filled with silence again, and Tony knew that JARVIS had ended the communication. He walked down the hall to his bedroom, and tried to settle into his bed, but his worry was just as heavy and distracting as ever. Despite how he tried to push it away it kept creeping back, and when he did sleep, it was a fitful, anxiety-filled sleep.


	3. Bad dreams in the middle of the night

"Daddy! Daddyyyyy!"

The screams awoke Tony from his fitful sleep, and had him on his feet in under a minute. He hurried down the hall to their source. Quietly, he opened the door to the twins' bedrooms and padded inside.

Jemma was sitting up in her bed, looking haunted and crying. Tony knelt next to her bed and she looked at him with her bloodshot eyes.

"Where's Daddy? I want Daddy," she said.

"Daddy's sick, remember?" he said gently. "But I'm here."

She stared at him a moment.

"I need Daddy," she said stubbornly.

Tony sighed. Bruce usually was the one who comforted the kids when they had nightmares. It wasn't that Tony never did it, but Bruce was more likely to wake up, and honestly, he was just better at it. None of that mattered now though, Tony was the only parent available and he was going to do his best.

"Daddy's resting . . .but I'm here," he said, holding open his arms in invitation.

She hesitated, but eventually hugged him tight and buried her face in his chest.

"I still want Daddy," she mumbled into the fabric of his shirt. "I had a bad dream."

"I know, baby, but it's okay now. You're safe," he whispered as he held her a little tighter and rubbed her back. 

He wondered what he was doing wrong, if she was still so insistent about wanting Bruce.

"But in my dream . . Daddy . . . Daddy died . . . " she hiccuped, her words dissolving into sobs.

Tony's heart clenched at her words, but he just continued gently rocking and shushing her.

"Daddy's okay," he reassured.

"I want to see him," she sobbed.

"He's sleeping. Daddy needs to sleep to get better. But he's okay," he soothed.

She continued to cry into the fabric of his t-shirt, holding onto fistfuls of it like a lifeline. Her broken whimpers were absolutely heart-rending, and Tony wished he could do more to comfort her.

"J?" he whispered, as an idea occurred to him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Can you tap into the security footage of Bruce in the lab and project it onto the wall above Jemma's bed?"

The AI responded by beaming the image of Bruce sleeping on the bed in the Hulk room onto the white wall. His sickly pallor was obvious, even in the grainy video, but it was proof that he was alive and asleep dozens of floors below them.

Jemma pulled her face away from Tony's chest, and stared at the footage. She sniffed as few times as she calmed down. Then she hugged Tony, and laid back down in her bed.

"I love you, Papa. Good night," she whispered, apparently calmed enough to try sleeping again.

Tony kissed her forehead and whispered back, "I love you, too. Sleep well."

He had barely shut the door when he heard another distressed cry break the new silence. This time the cry had come from further down the hall, so Tony walked a few feet and opened the door.

"Petey? Are you okay?" he whispered softly into the darkness.

"Papa? I had a bad dream," he replied shakily.

Tony made his way across the room and sat down on the edge of Peter's bed. His son immediately launched himself at Tony, and wrapped his arms around his neck. He returned the embrace and gathered him up into his lap.

"Do you want to talk about it?" his father asked.

Peter stiffened and hesitated, but he said, "I was at a funeral. It was just like the one I went to for my Mommy and my other Daddy, only this time there was only one coffin, and we were all there. Well, all of us except Daddy. He was . . . . "

Tony squeezed Peter a little tighter as his son started to cry softly into his shoulder. He rocked the two of them back and forth together, and tried not to think about the sick feeling settling in his stomach. 

"Shhhh, shhh, it's okay. Daddy's okay. You don't need to worry," he whispered, repeating it like a mantra as he continued swaying with his son in his arms.

"But Papa . . . Jemma was right . . . We don't know why Daddy's sick . . . .why is Daddy sick?" Peter whispered brokenly.

"I don't know, but we'll figure it out. We'll figure it out and Daddy will be okay. He'll be okay," he soothed.

Peter's crying continued until the small boy's sobs were replaced by snores. Tony laid him back in his bed gently, and covered him up. When he was sure he was settled, he silently crossed the room and shut the door.

Alone in the hallway, Tony broke down. He let tears streak silently down his cheeks. Why _was_ this happening? It seemed so unfair. Even if the argument could be made that he somehow deserved to lose his husband, (he _had_ been awfully cavalier about his love life in his younger days, and even now he wasn't sure he always appreciated Bruce the way he deserved to be); it wasn't right that his children should have to be so worried about something like this. They shouldn't have to have nightmares about losing their Daddy, especially when they had already lost parents. They didn't deserve that. The thought of them losing a third parent while they were still so young broke his heart. It was unbearable. Equally unbearable was the remembrance of his five-year-old son crying himself to sleep; unable to be comforted because his worries were just too big and too real. Tony knew life was unfair, he had seen ample evidence and experienced it first hand many times, but this seemed particularly cruel. 

_Bruce is **not** dying,_ he chastised himself. _He's just got some super-charged version of the flu or something. He'll be fine in a few days._

Still trying to reassure himself, he made his way back to his bedroom.


	4. Fears in the dark

"Sir, would you like an update on Dr. Banner?" JARVIS asked as Tony shut his bedroom door behind him.

"Go ahead, J," he answered wearily. 

"Dr. Banner is currently sleeping. He has gone three hours without vomiting. His temperature is one hundred four degrees. His pulse is elevated, but not beyond what is considered normal for having a fever," the AI intoned.

Tony nodded, knowing JARVIS' sensors would pick up the motion. That was better than earlier. His temperature was down a little and he wasn't throwing up. Things were still far from good though, and it didn't seem like they were any closer to figuring out what was causing all of this.

Pushing his worries from his mind, he climbed back into bed and closed his eyes. He needed to sleep. He'd spent most nights for the last week in the lab. The night before was the first night he had actually tried to get a good night's sleep, and he had been awoken at two in the morning and too worried to sleep after that. He was exhausted, but he still doubted that sleep would come easily, even as he tried his best to let himself drift.

_A wail pierced the silence, and Tony sprung out of bed to answer the dismayed sound. He hurried down the hall to the source, and entered Jane's bedroom._

_She was curled in a small ball on top of her bed, her small frame shaking as she wept into her knees._

_"Janey?" he asked gently. "Are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"_

_He crossed the room and sat next to Jane on her bed. She turned her back to him and scooted as far away from him as she could._

_"Go away! I want Daddy! Leave me alone!" she yelled between sobs._

_Tony stared at his daughter in surprise. Jane was the level-headed one. Sometimes she got scared, but she rarely, if ever, raised her voice._

_"Sweetie, Daddy can't be here right now, but I'm here. I'll take care of you," he said gently, trying to advance on her huddled form._

_"Like you took care of Daddy?" she shot back, her voice full of accusation._

_He froze, stung by her words, and unsure how to respond._

_"Daddy always took care of us. When we were sick, he was there. When **you** were sick, he took care of you! But when **he** was sick, you didn't do **ANYTHING**! It's all your fault!"_

_Tony felt dread growing in his stomach. 'Was sick'? 'All your fault'? What was happening?_

_The world around him spun and he was suddenly standing in the penthouse wearing a black suit. The other Avengers, Pepper, Happy and Rhodey were there too; also dressed in black. Jemma and Fitz were curled up on Natasha's lap crying as she tried to console them, looking surprisingly motherly. Jane stood a few paces away from Tony, wearing a black dress and turning a cold shoulder toward him._

_"I'm so sorry, Tony," Pepper said as she caught him in a tearful embrace. "Know that we're all here for you. If you need anything, just ask."_

_Tony heard her words, but he couldn't make sense of them. Why was she sorry? Why was everyone crying and wearing black? Did it mean . . .but surely he would have remembered that._

_Thor walked up and clapped him on the shoulder._

_"I am most sorry, my brother, for your loss. Bruce was a mighty warrior, a compassionate healer, and a good friend. He will be missed," Thor mourned._

_So it was true . . .but how could it be? He had no memory of it happening, but he was overcome with an emptiness so complete he knew it had to be true. The sudden realization was so overwhelming that the world around him blurred into streaks of black and white and the conversation around him faded into a din of incoherent noise._

_"Nat, where's Peter? I've been looking for the little wall climber all over, and I haven't found him," Tony picked out Clint's voice from the jumble of sound._

_"I'm not sure. He probably climbed off somewhere to be alone. He's been taking this pretty hard._

_Why don't you go look for him? Just don't tell Tony. He already has enough to deal with; he's been in a daze since Bruce died. The last thing he needs is more worry," Natasha replied._

_Tony's heart started to race. Peter was missing. He left the room in a panic and started searching everywhere he could think of to find his son._

_He wasn't in his bedroom, or the lab, or the workshop. He wasn't hiding in Tony's office, or on any of the ceilings he passed on his search._

_Growing desperate, he burst out onto the roof and found his son clinging to the side of the decorative spire as close to the top as he was able to crouch._

_"Peter! What are you doing?" he called._

_His son looked down at him, but said nothing._

_"Get down here! It's not safe up there!" Tony cried desperately._

_For a second it looked like Peter was going to ignore him, but after a few long moments he climbed down._

_"I wanted to be close to Daddy," he said, looking down at his feet when he stood in front of his Papa._

_"We all miss him, Petey," Tony said as he wrapped the young boy into a tight hug._

_"You said he was going to be okay," Peter half-sobbed as he hid his face in Tony's suit jacket. "You said he would get better, but he didn't. You lied, Papa. You lied, and now I don't have a Daddy anymore."_

_Tony held tighter to Peter, his words cutting deep. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't make this right . . ._

"Sir, Dr. Banner appears to be having a seizure," JARVIS' voice broke into his nightmare, jerking him back to consciousness.


	5. An emergency at two in the morning

"What?!?" Tony cried, his just-awaken brain racing to catch up.

"Dr. Banner is having a seizure. Should I call SHIELD medical personnel for help?" JARVIS repeated.

"Call the ones we usually work with; I need to know that I can trust them. Bruce isn't leaving the Tower, so tell them to bring whatever they think they need. Also, ask Steve to come up to the penthouse to watch the kids. I'm going down there. Well, first I'll stop at my lab to put on a biohazard suit, but then I'm going down there," Tony instructed rapidly.

"Sir, the safety protocol . . . "

"Should allow me to override it if I put on the stupid suit," Tony said crossly.

"I was going to say that the safety protocol has been lifted, sir. I was able to determine that the virus affecting Dr. Banner is not contagious half an hour ago. It appears to be designed to only affect gamma-mutated individuals," JARVIS informed.

"Then take me directly to Bruce," he said as he climbed into the elevator.

As soon as he was standing still he felt the dread of JARVIS' last revelation sink in. 'Designed to affect gamma-mutated individuals?' That meant that either a virus had rapidly mutated to attack gamma-affected cells on its own, (unlikely), or someone had engineered a virus to only affect gamma-irradiated people, likely with Bruce in mind. But why? And how had they exposed Bruce to the virus? 

Tony didn't have much longer to contemplate those disturbing thoughts, because when the elevator doors opened he was greeted by the sight of Bruce thrashing on the floor. He rushed to his side, and gently held Bruce's head between his hands to keep it from hitting anything as his body continued to jerk violently.

After what seemed like a very long time, (but was about a minute according to the timer JARVIS had going to measure the length of the seizure), Bruce stilled. He looked like he was asleep, his breathing deep and steady. That much was a relief.

Then time seemed to speed up again, and the requested medical personnel were buzzing around Bruce with unhurried swiftness. They shooed Tony away, and told him they would let him know when they knew more about what was happening with Bruce.

Tony was tempted to rush directly to his lab and start analyzing the data JARVIS had about the mystery, gamma-loving virus, but he knew he was too tired to be effective. With that in mind, he made his way back to the penthouse, feeling both hopeful and defeated at the same time.

"What's going on?" Steve asked as the elevator doors opened on the penthouse.

"What?" Tony asked, too lost in thought to process the question.

"It's two in the morning, Tony. What was so important that you needed to wake me up to watch your children? And even if you had some sort of emergency, or pressing obligation, or whatever, why couldn't Bruce take care of your kids?" the super soldier asked, annoyance clear in his voice.

"Bruce had a seizure," he said numbly.

Steve's face registered shock.

"I'm sorry, Tony. I didn't know . . . I didn't think Bruce _could_ have a seizure. I didn't think he could get sick," he said apologetically.

"Yeah, neither did I. Well, until he woke up about this time yesterday night vomiting. 

He was pretty surprised, too. It freaked him out so much he hid himself down in the Hulk room so he couldn't spread whatever super pathogen was making him sick. Turns out, it's a virus specifically designed to target gamma-mutated cells," Tony recounted nearly emotionlessly.

It felt weird to tell Steve about what was happening. He had been so caught up in the situation, that to have someone outside of it suddenly involved felt strange. A feeling that wasn't helped by the shocked and worried look on Steve's face.

"What does that mean? If it was designed for gamma-mutated cells, does that mean someone targeted Bruce? Who? Why?" Steve asked.

"Those are the million dollar questions. If I knew, believe me, I'd feel a lot better, but all I know is that this probably wasn't something that just happened by chance," the billionaire said glumly.

Steve nodded, his blue eyes looking grave. If someone had targeted Bruce and somehow managed to infect him with a specialized virus that had some pretty serious implications. 

"Let me know if you need anything else," he called as he headed to the elevator.

"Thanks," Tony called back wearily.


	6. Saturday morning questions

"Papa?" a voice said timidly.

Tony was aware of a small hand on his arm gently shaking him. He was still very tired, sleep had not come easily, and when it had, it had been riddled with nightmares. Still, the little hand was insistent, so he opened his eyes.

Jane was standing next to the bed, still in her nightgown, looking timidly at her father.

"We're all awake," she said. "Peter, Jemma and Fitz are drawing at the coffee table, but they said they were hungry."

Tony grimaced. It was Saturday. Bruce usually cooked breakfast on Saturdays; something Tony couldn't do unless he was willing to risk setting the kitchen on fire. 

"Alright, I'll be right out," he answered.

He waited for Jane to leave the room and then threw on some clothes. Then he wearily joined his family in the living room. He herded the children to the table, and then poured five bowls of cereal. The children didn't complain about the breakfast-from-a-box, but Tony felt guilty none-the-less. 

After breakfast was finished, they all made their way to the living room once again. The children went back to their drawings, and Tony was about to join them, when the elevator doors opened and Steve strode into room.

"Something wrong, Cap?" Tony asked, slightly concerned by the captain's sudden presence.

"No, but I thought you might want to head down to the lab . . . JARVIS told me there were some people down there who wanted to talk to you . . . .so I thought I'd come up and spend some time with my favorite nieces and nephews," he answered.

"Thank you," Tony replied, making his way to the elevator as Steve settle next to the kids to draw.

"Papa, wait!" Jane called.

"What?" he asked nervously; he was afraid he had somehow done something wrong.

"Are you going to see Daddy?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes," he said simply, hoping she didn't ask to come too, he has no idea what was waiting for him.

"Can you take him these?" she requested, running back to the table and then bringing him a small stack of drawings. "We made them this morning. They're get well cards."

"Of course," he said tightly, trying not to let himself get emotional as he looked at the handful of crayon drawings.

He continued his path to the elevator thinking about the drawings and the news that awaited him. Until he had been reminded, Tony had all but forgotten that the people that had been brought in from SHIELD had promised him an update. He wondered why JARVIS had told Steve, instead of talking directly with Tony himself. 

"J, why didn't you tell me the SHIELD medics wanted to talk to me?" he asked as the elevator doors closed, unable to shake the question.

"I'm sorry, sir. You haven't slept for more than a few hours in several days. It seemed wise to let you sleep," the AI replied.

"You should have told me," Tony responded.

He left it at that, there was little good that could come from belaboring the point, especially when he was talking to an AI. He just hoped that whatever they wanted to tell him wasn't urgent, and preferably that it was good news. Despite these hopes, he felt a growing sense of dread in his stomach. In fact, he was so nervous he had almost worked himself into a panic by the time he reached the lab.

The doors opened on the lab, and Tony walked out into the room, consciously taking deep breaths to avoid letting his anxiety overtake him.

"Mr. Stark," one the doctors said as they caught sight of him.

"Dr. Wertz," he returned, recognizing him from one of the team's earlier visits to the medical bay.

"I hate to say this, Mr. Stark, but we're stumped as to what is causing Dr. Banner's illness. We know it's a virus, but it's unlike any known virus. In someways it resembles Dengue fever, which explains why his fever is so high and could explain the vomiting, but analysis of the blood samples your AI provided us with show that the DNA of this virus varies from the viruses that cause Dengue fever in many ways," Dr. Wertz informed.

"What does that mean?" Tony asked nervously.

"It means, we don't have a lot to go on. For now we treat the symptoms and hope for a breakthrough. On the one hand, like I said, there are similarities, even genetically, to the virus that causes Dengue fever. Dengue fever is rarely ever fatal. Which is good news. However, given the fact that the virus appears to be engineered, I doubt that someone would go through all that trouble to create a virus that can withstand gamma radiation just to cause vomiting, fever and muscle aches. I can't prove it yet, but I think there were more sinister intentions behind the creation of the virus than we are aware of right now," the doctor replied.

"What about the seizure? What caused that?" 

"Best we can tell, the seizure was caused by the high fever, severe dehydration, or a combination of the two. We've been working to lower Dr. Banner's fever with marginal success, and we started him on IV fluids to help combat the dehydration."

Tony nodded numbly. It wasn't much, and they were basically telling him that they were just doing damage control, but it was better than nothing.

"Can I see him?"

"Yes, but try to keep your visit short. He needs to rest."

Tony nodded and made his way into the Hulk room. Bruce was propped up in the bed, looking absolutely exhausted. He turned his head to look at Tony, and even that small movement seemed to take a lot of effort.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Not too bad," Bruce lied.

"You're a terrible liar," Tony said with a forced smile.

"Would you feel better if I said I feel like shit?" his husband returned with a weary snarkiness.

"I'd at least know you were being honest," he answered.

"How are the kids?" Bruce asked, seemingly eager to change the subject.

"They're doing alright. They made you these," he said handing him the pile of paper.

Bruce looked through the collection of drawings, all of which declared "Get Well Daddy" and then had the name of the drawer written below, and smiled weakly.

"Tell them I said thank you," he replied sadly. "And that I'm sorry that I have to miss family outing day."

_Shit! It's supposed to be family outing day. I forgot!_

_Bruce has been sick for thirty hours and can barely move, and he's worried about missing time with the kids. He looks like he can barely stay awake, but he remembered what today was, unlike me. I forgot that it's family outing day, even though we've been doing this ever Saturday for almost three years!_ Tony mentally scolded himself.

"I will," Tony said shortly, trying to hide what he was thinking.

"Tony, what's wrong?" Bruce asked; showing that clearly Tony had failed in his attempt to hide his thoughts.

"Nothing," he dismissed.

Bruce leveled him with a look that showed that he didn't believe a word that Tony was saying. Although his meaning was clearly communicated, the gaze was significantly less effective due to the sickly, dark circles around his eyes and the pallor of his face, which drew Tony's attention away from the dubious look in his eyes.

"You look like you need some sleep," he said before Bruce could press the matter further. "You need to get better, and soon. We're lost without you."

Tony said the last part as if it were a joke, but he truly meant it, more than he wanted Bruce to know at the moment, (because it would only worry him). 

He stood and leaned close to wrap his husband in a gentle hug.

"I love you. Get some rest," he whispered into his ear.

"I love you, too," Bruce whispered back.

Tony kissed his cheek and then backed out of the room. He wanted to stay, but Bruce looked so tired. Besides, he had things he needed to do.


	7. Plans

Tony walked out past the SHIELD workers who promised to keep him updated, and made his way to the elevator. He strolled into the car and then hesitated. Part of him wanted to make his way to his workshop and try to figure out what exactly was going on with this engineered virus, but Steve probably hadn't meant to sign on for half a day or more worth of baby-sitting. Besides, it was supposed to be family outing day. Hiding in his workshop most of the day hardly seemed appropriate. He didn't really feel like going out, but he figured the least he could do was spend the day with his kids, even if they never left the penthouse.

Decision made, he pressed the button for the penthouse, and as doors opened he smiled as he saw Jane and Fitz chattering with Steve about what they were drawing. Peter and Jemma seemed content to draw in silence beside them, but seemed equally engaged in the activity. 

"Papa! We made more get well cards for Daddy," Peter informed from his spot on the floor.

"I'll be around if you need me," Steve said as he stood to leave.

"Thank you, Steve. That's really nice, Petey," he said sitting down next to them. "He said thank you for the ones you sent him, and that he misses you and he's sorry he can't be here for family outing day."

"It's okay that he can't be here," Jane said, then a shrewd look appeared on her face and she added, "Could our outing be going to see Daddy and giving him our new get well cards? Then he could still be a part of family outing day. . . .and we could see him. We miss him, Papa."

Tony froze. It had been determined that the virus Bruce had wasn't contagious, so it wouldn't be dangerous for them to visit. It also might calm them down, since they had been assuming the worst since finding out their father was sick. Still, Bruce was pretty tired and weak, and he looked every bit as sick as he was. He wasn't sure if it would be a good idea to let the children see him when he looked so frail. Neither was he sure that the excitement that would surround such a visit would be good for Bruce. Then again, it might be just what he needed.

"We'll see," he said non-committally. "He's sleeping right now, and he needs to sleep a lot to get better . . .but maybe later if he feels up to it."

Jane nodded levelly, but he could see her barely contained excitement at the thought of seeing her Daddy. 

"We should bring him the fuzzy, blue blanket," Jemma chipped in as she continued drawing.

The other children nodded their approval and Tony smiled. Bruce kept a large, blue, polar fleece blanket on hand to wrap up whichever child, (or on a couple of occasions, Tony), wasn't feeling well and settle them on the couch. Then he would buzz around and fuss over them, attentive to their every need, until they got better. The blanket had become synonymous with the healing power of loving care-taking, and Tony found it incredibly sweet that they wanted to bring it to Bruce.

"We could bring him some chicken soup too," Fitz added.

"We're not allowed to cook without Daddy's help," Peter countered.

"We could get help from Pa . . . . We could order some?" Fitz returned.

Tony felt his cheeks color. Apparently even his three-year-old knew he was beyond hope in the kitchen. 

"Is there anything else we could bring Daddy that would help him feel better?" Jane asked, turning her honey-colored eyes toward Tony.

"I think you've got it covered with the cards, blanket, and soup," Tony said fondly. "But remember, we have see if he feels up to visitors. He's been pretty tired."

They nodded their understanding, but they all looked so disappointed that Tony knew he would bring them down to see Bruce as soon as it seemed reasonable. He might still have his reservations, but they seemed too invested in the idea for him to refuse.

They spent another hour drawing before they decided to play a game of hide and seek. Peter won by climbing up into a dark corner near the ceiling, and Fitz and Jemma claimed he had cheated by using his spider powers. Tony broke up the feud by suggesting that they eat lunch, which was agreeable to all parties.

Tony threw together some sandwiches and served them with baby carrots. Once again, the children didn't complain about the simple cuisine, in fact, they seemed to enjoy it. Still, he couldn't help but wonder how much longer they would be happy without a hot meal that didn't get delivered. Part of him was sure they wouldn't mind, but he felt guilty anyway. Bruce wouldn't be forced to alternate between sandwiches and takeout if he was caring for the kids alone. 

Tony tried to push the thought from his mind. He knew it was incredibly unproductive, but realizing just how much Bruce had done that he couldn't do, or at least couldn't do nearly as well, made him feel very inadequate as a parent. He couldn't shake the feeling that if their situations were reversed Bruce would be fine, whereas Tony felt like he was barely managing. He was so sure he was going to screw something up if he was left to his own devices much longer, that he was incredibly grateful when JARVIS informed him that Bruce was awake again and ready for visitors.


	8. The visit

"Let's go see Daddy," he said as he herded the four youngsters into the elevator. 

Each of them was carrying a couple of carefully crafted get well cards, and he was carrying the blue blanket and takeout container of chicken soup that they had requested he bring. They stood clutching their gifts tightly, waiting impatiently for the elevator to reach Bruce's lab.

They clambered out of the elevator when it reached its destination, and the SHIELD medics stared at the group wide-eyed. One of them shot Tony a look that clearly asked if he thought this was a good idea, and he returned it with a level, sure gaze. He was far from as sure as he projected, but the children wanted to see their Daddy, and Bruce missed them, so he was hoping this would end up being a good thing all around.

"I brought you some guests," Tony announced as he entered the Hulk room.

A chorus of "Daddy!" rang out as Jane, Peter, Jemma and Fitz made their way into the room.

"We brought you the blue, fuzzy blanket," Jemma said excitedly.

"And soup," Fitz added equally enthusiastically.

"And we made you these," Peter said as he held up his drawing and motioned to the ones held by his brother and sisters.

"Thank you," Bruce said. "You guys really put a lot of thought into this."

The children grinned at their father, and he smiled back with effort. He was glad to see them, and touched by their thoughtfulness, but he was still far from feeling well.

Tony set the soup on the table beside the bed, unfolded the blanket, and gently covered Bruce with it. Then he carefully tucked the blue polar fleece around him. 

Jemma and Fitz crawled up onto the large bed next to Bruce to show him their drawings.

"Jemma, Fitz, get . . . . " Tony started to scold, but Bruce raised a hand.

"They're alright."

Tony nodded, and Peter and Jane looked at Bruce expectantly. He motioned to them and they climbed into the bed on his other side. There was plenty of room for all of them, the bed was hulk-sized after all.

They took turns showing him their home-made get well cards and then just chattered with him about whatever crossed their minds. Bruce nodded along, listening intently to what they said, but after a while it seemed to be costing him extraordinary effort just to follow along. Tony was about to end the visit, when Jemma furrowed her brow and spoke.

"Daddy, you're sweating," she said reaching out to touch his face. "Your skin's cold, and you're breathing kinda fast. . . . Something's wrong."

She was right. It did look like something was wrong, so Tony rushed to the door and called for help. Then he gathered together the children on the far side of the room so they would be out of the way of the people rushing in to check on Bruce.

The children watched with scared, wide eyes, but they remained quiet so as not to distract the medical team. Instead they listened as the men across the room threw around words like "shock," and "low blood pressure," and "infection." They may not have understood everything, but they knew that whatever was going on was serious. The men were moving too hurriedly for it not to be an emergency.

After several long minutes, one of the SHIELD workers broke away from the group and stood in front of Tony. He looked at the children and hesitated.

"Perhaps you want to find someone to watch the children so that we can talk about what's happened," he said gently.

Tony considered a second and then said, "No. They had to witness all of what just happened. They deserve to know what's going on."

The SHIELD employee looked visibly uncomfortable, but he said, "Mr. Stark, your husband went into septic shock. He had a sudden, severe drop in blood pressure that was likely caused by toxins from an infection. We gave him medication to raise his blood pressure and broad spectrum antibiotics to try to counter the infection. We'll keep a close eye on him, but we don't know how much damage was caused, or if we've managed to control the infection. The next twenty-four hours are going to be critical."

The dread that Tony felt as the man walked away was so great that it took him several long minutes to realize that Jane, Peter, Fitz and Jemma were all crying. Maybe letting them stay to hear the update had been a bad idea. Then again, they probably would have been upset either way. 

Feeling guilty, he knelt down on the floor and opened his arms wide. They all piled into a large joint hug, and clung to each other as their tears continued to flow. Tony shushed them softly, but it seemed to do little to calm their tearful worry.


	9. Ah-ha!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm quite unhappy with the way this is turning out, but I've gotten pretty stuck. I'll probably see this through to the end . . .but I'm not sure of I'll keep it up long after that . . . Or maybe I'll go back and edit it massively if I have the time. 
> 
> Thanks to those of you who are sticking in there. Hopefully my next story will be better.

Tony stared at the information in front of him on the tablet. He'd worked for three hours, and still he didn't know much about the virus other than that it seemed to be derived at least partially from one of the viruses that caused Dengue fever, and it had been modified to infect gamma-irradiated cells. Fat lot of good that did, they knew all of that before. Although the virus was clearly a hybrid, he had no idea what other virus or viruses were the origins of the rest of the DNA. If it even was from a virus . . .maybe it was from a bacteria or some other organism. . . That is if it was possible to cross virus and bacteria DNA. He knew there had been all sorts of cross-species gene splices, but Tony was far from an expert in genetic engineering.

He looked across the room at Bruce, fitfully sleeping, his skin sickly pale except for the dark circles under his eyes. Then he turned his attention to the four little blanket cocoons lined up next to him, (the children had refused to leave Bruce, so Tony had brought in blankets and pillows for them to sleep on the floor). All of them were counting on him to figure this out, and he had no idea what he was looking at, or where to start. 

Feeling at a complete loss, he crossed the room and sat next to Bruce. The other man did not wake, even as Tony took his hand.

"I don't know what to do, Bruce," he whispered.

He paused to see if his words would disturb his husband's hard-fought sleep. When he was sure they wouldn't, he continued speaking.

"You were right. Microbiology isn't my strong point. I don't know where to start. And I need to figure it out. For you, and me, and the kids," he admitted.

When he mentioned their children, he looked across the room at them. They were all sound asleep, balled up on the floor in piles of blankets.

"Honestly, Bruce, the kids need you. I don't even compare to you as a parent. I can't cook. We've been eating cereal and sandwiches since you got sick. I'm not very good at comforting them, either. Peter had a nightmare yesterday night, and even though I tried to help him, I couldn't. He cried himself back to sleep. . . . I forgot family outing day until you reminded me. That's right . . . I forgot the tradition I started. And tonight I got them all upset because I let them stay when you went into shock. 

They saw everything, and then they heard all about what happened from the medic. They were so scared they didn't want to leave, and after a while I just gave up. . . . They're sleeping on the floor over there. I probably should have put my foot down, but I just couldn't make them leave after all of that. I felt like they deserved to know what's happening. Maybe that's wrong, but I think they'll get more sleep there then they will upstairs. . . .at any rate . . . I'm feeling kinda hopeless at this whole parenting thing. I need you to get better so we can go back to being a team, because me solo just isn't cutting it," Tony confessed. 

He looked again at his husband, who was still sleeping, but looked anything but peaceful. Bruce looked haggard and pained, and that reminded Tony all over again how important it was that he figure this out.

"It's just so hard to wrap my head around this virus. I mean, almost anyone else wouldn't have been affected by it at all. Without the gamma, the virus wouldn't reproduce. It would just sit there and get destroyed by white blood cells before it got the chance to do anything, but with you it's reproducing so fast it's overwhelming. I just . . . I don't know what to do . . . Wait . . . .white blood cells . . .JARVIS, was the entire sample Bruce took used for testing?"

"No, sir, but the sample is being stored under biohazard lockdown."

"Well, then I'd better suit up. Well, I have a couple of things I have to do first, but then I should suit up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, Bruce awoke feeling better than he had since he first realized he was sick. He turned to his left and saw Tony sitting next to him, looking at him expectantly.

"How are you feeling?" Tony asked.

"Better than I have in the last couple of days," he answered.

"I think it's working," Tony said hopefully.

"What's working?" Bruce inquired.

"My plan . . .The virus, it's designed only to reproduce using gamma-mutated cells as hosts, and it's reproduction is sped up by the radiation. So when it's surrounded by irradiated cells, it creates more nasty little viruses at a rate so fast that your immune system can't keep up. However, if there are no gamma irradiated cells it just sits there . . .so I infected my blood with the virus, and my white blood cells created antibodies for the horrible little microbes, and then I gave you a transfusion of my antibody-rich blood to give your immune system a helping hand," Tony explained.

"Wait . . .you infected yourself?!? What were you thinking?!?" Bruce cried.

"Not directly," Tony said as if it should be obvious. "I took a pint of my blood, infected it with what was left of your blood sample, waited a few hours for the antibodies to form, and then, well, you know the rest . . .At any rate, your fever broke about half an hour ago, so I think my crazy plan might have worked."

"I am feeling better," Bruce admitted.

"See, score one for out of the box thinking," Tony replied.

Bruce gave a half-hearted grin, but after a moment his face fell.

"Tony . . . The kids . . . " he started hesitantly.

"Are upstairs with Steve."

"How did they . . . React?"

"Honestly? They were pretty scared and worried. They spent the night sleeping on the floor of the Hulk room because they didn't want to leave you. 

Then they woke up and I managed to convince them to go with Steve. I told them I needed time alone so I could keep working on my plan to make you better."

"That worked?"

"They left without even a little fuss. They would have done anything I asked if they thought it would help you."

A strange mix of emotions crossed Bruce's face, and Tony smiled at him.

"They love you, Big Guy."

Bruce nodded. Moments like this always took him by surprise. He knew his family loved him, but when he was confronted with an example of just how much, he always felt a little overwhelmed.


	10. Of chaos and parenting

Bruce's recovery progressed very quickly. By lunch, he was feeling hungry, and able to eat and keep everything down. By dinner, he was ready to leave quarantine and return to the penthouse, (after having tested his own blood three times to make sure it was safe, despite Tony's reassurance that he had never actually been contagious in the first place).

"You ready to be mobbed by four children under the age of ten? I'm pretty sure that right now seeing you ranks higher than meeting Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny combined," Tony joked as the doors to the elevator opened.

"Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny combined, huh? I would say you're exaggerating, but since none of our children believe in either of them, the excitement bar is pretty low. So you're probably about right," Bruce returned with a grin as he walked into the elevator car.

"Spoilsport. You know exactly what I meant. Why do you have to ruin these things for me?" Tony grumbled.

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not. You enjoy ruining my fun."

"Maybe."

Bruce turned toward Tony with a smirk plastered across his face. He enjoyed Tony's responding pout for a few seconds, and then pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

"I still bet you'll forgive me after that," Bruce added.

"One quick kiss seems pretty stingy, Banner. After over two days without kissing, you owe me a lot more than that."

"We'll see."

They abruptly cut off their teasing as the elevator doors opened on the penthouse, and Bruce was engulfed in four pairs of arms. He chuckled and bent down to return their embrace.

"We missed you, Daddy," Fitz commented, as he snuggled even closer.

"We're so glad you're back," Jane added.

"You're feeling better, right?" Jemma asked concernedly.

"I'm okay," Bruce reassured. "And I missed all of you, too."

"I was about to start dinner, but I guess I'll head out and leave you guys to family time," Steve commented as he walked toward the huddle. 

"I'd be more than happy to take care of dinner," Bruce agreed. "Thanks for all your help, Steve."

"No problem. Glad to see you're feeling better," the super-soldier said, giving the other man a quick pat on the back as he made his way onto the elevator.

"Are you sure you're ready to cook? You've been really sick. No one would blame you if you weren't ready to take back chef duty just yet. If you need to rest, it's okay," Tony cautioned.

"I'm okay. I think once my immune system got a boost, I was able to go back to my normal accelerated healing rate. I'm not even the least bit tired. And it'll be nice to get back to the normal routine," Bruce reassured.

Tony frowned and gave him a dubious look, so he quickly added, "But, if it gets to be too much, or I get too tired, I'll let you know. I know you'll be there to help pick up the slack if I need you. Just like you have these last couple of days. Thanks for that, by the way."

"You shouldn't have to thank me for taking care of my own children," Tony grumbled.

Bruce gave him a questioning look, "I wasn't just talking about that, but that's certainly worth a thank you. I'm not saying you don't take care of them normally, but usually we do it together. We're a team, and let's be honest, that helps a lot when there are four of them. I kind of left you to do it all alone, and I know that couldn't have been easy."

"You seem to be able to do it well enough," Tony muttered under his breath as Bruce walked into the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The evening passed in a blur filled with family meal time, a game of hide and seek, some last minute homework for Peter and Jane, (usually Bruce would scold them for leaving their work until Sunday night, but given the weekend they had had, he didn't say anything), and baths for all of the kids. 

The Banner-Stark family was buzzing with their normal busyness, and not once did Bruce show any signs of flagging. That didn't stop Tony from keeping a close eye on him, though. He knew that his husband was not one to readily admit weakness, or stop once he started something, even if he should.

Wary as he was, Tony didn't intervene, and soon four children were tucked in bed, (by both their parents, as their ritual dictated), and the penthouse was suddenly quiet and calm.

"Ready for bed?" Tony asked, his exhaustion showing through.

"Yeah. Gotta rest while we can, right? There's more nonstop fun tomorrow," Bruce joked.

"I told you that you could take it easy if you needed to. You shouldn't be pushing yourself too hard," Tony shot back with concern running through his voice.

"I'm fine, I was kidding. It's just you get so used to the chaos you don't even realize how crazy things are here on a normal basis until you step away for a day or two. Now I know why Steve's the only one who will baby-sit for us."

"Well, Thor would . . ."

"I am **NOT** letting Thor watch our kids alone. He's a great guy and all, but his childcare knowledge leaves much to be desired."

"Just because they do things differently on Asgard. . . "

"Our children are not Asgardians. They are not warriors. They don't have magic. And they don't need to learn how to slay anything, especially not before the age of ten. . . .and why are you defending him?!? You wouldn't leave them with him if I didn't object, would you?!?"

"Of course not! I just like seeing you get all worked up over Thor's unconventional child-rearing." 

"I suppose it might be a bit hypocritical of me. I do risk exposing our children to a one ton rage monster everyday," Bruce conceded.

"A, Hulk is not a monster. B, Hulk would never hurt our kids, and you know it! C, if you're a hypocrite, what hope do I have? I'm pretty sure you're at least twice the parent I am," Tony countered.

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

"How many times do I have to tell you . . . Hulk is A PERSON!"

"No! Not that! I mean, you don't really believe you're a lesser parent do you? That's the second time you've said something like that today."

"Firstly, you weren't supposed to hear the first time. Secondly, are you serious?!? It's not even a close comparison. You're way better at this than I am. When I'm sick, or gone on business, or whatever, you keep things running as if nothing were different. These last couple of days, I barely held things together without your help."

"You're giving me too much credit, Tony. I feel like I can barely keep up when I have to take care of the kids by myself."

"But you can cook. You wouldn't be forced to feed them a steady diet of cereal, sandwiches and takeout. 

And you're more nurturing. You're better with them when they're sick. And when they're upset, or they have a nightmare, you know how to calm them down. Peter cried himself to sleep when I tried to comfort him. That would have never happened to you. You would have known how to make him feel better."

"None of that makes you a bad parent, Tony. 

So what if you can't cook? I'm sure you fed them balanced meals. It's not like you can't give them what they need if you don't cook it yourself.

And you are nurturing. I have more practice comforting them after nightmares, because I'm a lighter sleeper, but they've cried themselves to sleep with me too. It happens sometimes. That's just the way it is. It doesn't mean either of us are bad parents.

And I might be better at taking care of them when they're sick, but you're way better about not overreacting when the kids get into things they're not supposed to. When I want to yell, you stay calm and explain why what they did was wrong. We're different as parents, but that's what makes us such a good team. They need _both_ of us."

"You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?"

"Would I do that?"

"Yes. Yes, you would . . .but I believe you anyway."

"Good . . .now about getting to bed."

"Lead the way."


	11. Back to normal?

Bruce must have been more tired than he thought, he realized as he woke up tangled in no less than sixteen limbs! When did that happen?!? He knew that Tony had wrapped around him like a koala as soon as they climbed into bed. Honestly, he had expected him to be clingy after everything that had happened. That still didn't explain how had he had slept through not one, but all four of his children climbing into his bed and grabbing onto him with one or more of their limbs.

Carefully, he extricated himself from the mountain of arms and legs. It was no small feat, but he somehow managed to do it without waking a single one of his bed mates. Then he looked back at the full bed and smiled. His whole world, contained in one pile of blankets, mussed hair and splayed limbs, sleeping peacefully. Crowded onto one bed to be closer to him. The thought made warmth course through his chest, but underneath it he could feel butterflies in his stomach as he acknowledged that their proximity was caused as much by fear as it was by love.

He pushed the thought from his mind and wandered into the kitchen. He would start breakfast and then wake them, just like it was any other day. The sooner they returned to their routines, the sooner they could put all of this behind them.

Breakfast was uneventful, and overall pretty normal. Tony was half-asleep for most of the meal, Peter dragged his feet to put off going to school, (not that he didn't like school, he was always fine once he got there, but he preferred being at home with his dads), and Jane chattered happily. The only real difference was the stares Bruce could feel directed his way when they thought he wasn't looking, as if they were studying him to make sure he was truly okay.

Still, the morning went on more or less as usual. Bruce and Tony dropped Jane and Peter off at school, Tony went down to the lab, and Bruce stayed with Jemma and Fitz. Games were played, books were read, everything was as it should be.

Well, maybe the twins stuck a little closer than normal. Except when they sneaked into their room to grab a book, or toy, or game, (and was it just Bruce or where they doing that more often than normal too?). However, it didn't seem like there was anything to be concerned about.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The phone rang around lunchtime, interrupting Bruce as he prepared one of Tony's favorite meals, (which he was making in hopes of luring him out of the lab to eat with him and the children).

"Hello?" 

"Hello, this is Tara Weist, the principal of Seward Elementary. Is this Dr. Banner or Mr. Stark?"

"This is Dr. Banner. Is everything alright with Jane and Peter?"

"Well, Dr. Banner, they were both sent down to my office for interrupting their classes and disrespecting their teachers."

"Both of them?!? They're usually so well behaved. What happened?"

"It appears they both wore Stark watches to school today, and were receiving several messages during class. This was distracting both them, and others in their classes, so their teachers asked them to turn off the watches or put them away. When they continued to use the watches anyway, their teachers took the watches and put them in a safe space to be stored until they were returned at the end of the day. 

At this point, Jane started screaming at her teacher and crying hysterically, so she was sent down to see me. She's still inconsolable, though she's quieted a little. I'm not quite sure why she's upset, since her words have been nearly incoherent, but I believe she said something about someone dying . . .have you lost a friend or family member recently?"

"No," Bruce responded numbly.

"Peter was sent down to my office about fifteen minutes after Jane. He apparently shot a web across the room to retrieve his watch from where his teacher had placed it, then refused to return it to the teacher.

He hasn't spoken since he arrived in my office. He's just sat here, scowling and staring at the wall."

"I'm so sorry."

"I hate to ask, since they are usually such good students, but could you please come and pick them up? I think they need to be out of school for the rest of the day.

They don't seem like they'll be able to do much learning, and it seems likely they'll interrupt the learning of others."

"Of course, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you, Dr. Banner."

Bruce hung up the phone with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He sighed. He needed to get to the school. He could take Jemma and Fitz along, but maybe he would get more out of the other two if they were alone. He wanted to get to the bottom of this, (though he had a sneaking suspicion he already knew what was happening).

"JARVIS? Ask Tony if he can come up and watch Jemma and Fitz for a while."

"Yes sir," the AI replied.

"Bruce? What's going on? Are you okay?" Tony's voice asked concernedly through the intercom, what must have been only moments after the message was relayed to him.

"I'm fine, but I need to pick up Jane and Peter from school."

"Are they okay?"

"They're not hurt, but they're being sent home for their disruptive and disrespectful behavior."

"Our kids? The ones that somehow, despite me and my obnoxious ways, are ridiculously polite and respectful?"

"The very same."

"What did they do?"

"They were messaging someone on Stark watches during class, and wouldn't stop or let their teacher take the watches for safe keeping. Jane had a meltdown when her teacher tried, and Peter slung a web to try to sneak his back."

"Why would they bring those to school in the first place? We don't allow them to do that."

"They must have hidden them until they got to school."

"Why would they do that? Who would they even be messaging? And why?"

"I have an idea, but I want to talk to them about it. Figure out what's going on. 

That's why I wanted you to watch the twins for a while. I figure I'll get further with Peter and Jane if we're alone. . .so when are you coming up?"

"I'm kinda in the middle of something. Could you ask Steve?"

"I could, but we've been asking him for help a lot lately. I don't want him to think we're taking advantage of him. 

Can you really not leave whatever you're doing for half an hour or so?"

"It's important!"

Bruce flinched, and tried to to gather his words to respond, but Tony spoke again before he was able to.

"I'm sorry, Bruce. I didn't mean to snap at you, I just . . . .nevermind. I'll be up in a couple of minutes."

"Thank you."

"No problem. See you soon."


End file.
